6 years ago

  Slap! Mona struck with her sword—not a real one, of course, just another wooden practice sword. Fynn parried the attack with his own, then swung in for a side swipe.

  The hills bustled with action as the children of Chestnut dashed around, enacting their own little battle. Knights and Princesses, they called it, although there was only ever one princess. Today, that had been Mary, who sat atop the largest hill with a grumpy scowl on her face.

  The aim of the game was for a knight from one team to capture the princess and take her back to their team’s ‘castle’. Why the knights they were pretending to be were fighting over one silly rich girl, Mona did not know. Why didn’t the princess just walk herself to a castle? Who even put her in the ‘villain’s lair,’ as they called it? The lair was, in truth, just the tallest hill they could find.

  Mona never voiced these questions out loud. No matter the story behind the game, whacking swords together—even wooden ones—was an excellent way to pass the time.

  As she stepped back, Fynn continued a relentless flurry of swings. None were particularly skillful, but they were strong enough to keep Mona dodging. As he raised his weapon for a powerful overhead strike, Mona jabbed him in the stomach with the tip of her sword. He winced and dropped to one knee. She grabbed his weapon’s ‘blade’ and yanked it from his hand, claiming it as her own.

  To Mona’s dismay, none of the other children thought it fair for anyone to start with two swords. Of course, none of them understood that, for most of them, having two would be a disadvantage. But in Mona’s case, perhaps it had been the right decision all along. No matter. Now she had two swords—and could confidently charge toward the princess.

  But that would’ve been too easy.

  Atop the tallest hill, standing beside an unimpressed Mary, was Yig—arms crossed, wearing a confident smirk.

  “Bwahahaha!” Yig roared. “You shall never get the girl, foolish hero. My power is far too overwhelming for you!”

  “Wait,” Mona said, pausing mid-step. “You’re playing a villain? I figured you’d want the hero role.”

  “Of course I am the villain of this tale!” he bellowed in his overly dramatic tone. “Shack’s on my team! We must be the villains!”

  “Hey!” Shack shouted from down the hill, promptly getting smacked in the head for his lack of focus.

  “Whatever you are,” Mona said, playing along, “I’ll stop you!”

  Yig reached down for his wooden weapon and raised it toward her, still doing his best to keep the moment epic. “You will try!”

  A shriek pierced the ears of everyone on the hills, startling them all.

  Yig screwed a finger into his ear. “Heavens, Mary. I appreciate the commitment to the part, but could you wait until I’ve stepped aside before you scream like that?”

  Mona rolled her eyes. The girl had clearly screamed in actual terror—she was shaking and staring toward the distant hills, just out of Mona’s view. Yig noticed it too and turned to look in the same direction, catching sight of whatever had stunned Mary.

  Mona sprinted up the hill and finally got a good look at what had frightened them—followed by the other curious children.

  It was a troubling sight.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Men dressed in tattered vests and trousers slowly approached them—perhaps ten in total. It wasn’t a charge like that of an attack; they walked at a steady, deliberate pace. But it was hard to miss the knives, blades, and hatchets strapped to their belts. The man leading them carried a menacing aura. Sure, he wore what looked like a harmless grin, but he still sent a twitch of fear through Mona.

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  “How’d they get here?” one of the younger children asked.

  No one answered. No one ever came to Chestnut. The only settlements nearby were other quaint villages and towns miles away—all of whom knew they were not welcome.

  As the leader drew closer, Mona got a better look at him. His hair was black and oily, and a scar slashed across one eye. He wore a dirty pink cloth draped over his left shoulder, partially covering his yellowed vest and shirt.

  “How are we doing, little ones?” the man called up in a performative tone. “Enjoying yourselves?”

  The children glanced at each other. With none of the older ones present to take charge, only one clear candidate remained.

  “Don’t toy with us!” Mona shouted, stepping forward with her nose raised at the strange men. “We Chestnut children aren’t like the weak crybabies you’re used to.”

  The man’s eyes lit up with amused surprise. “Oh,” he said with a chuckle. “My mistake. Please, I meant no offense.”

  The other men laughed at that, their voices coarse and grimy. Maybe they didn’t take Mona seriously. Fine—that only gave her a tactical edge.

  “You know you’re not welcome here,” Mona said.

  “We’re aware,” the man replied. “But perhaps if we were granted an audience with someone a little… taller, we could come to an understanding.”

  “You want to speak with Father?”

  Drat. Why had she said that? Hopefully, that information wasn’t useful to them.

  “Only if he holds some authority,” the man said, still playing at diplomacy. But the underlying menace in his tone remained. “Don’t worry—we’ll stay right here and wait.”

  As confident as Mona tried to appear, she knew her group couldn’t physically stop the strangers from advancing. They could attack whether or not the children stayed. And so, despite wanting desperately to prove herself—to do something bold and awesome—there was only one choice. She had to fetch the adults.

  She turned and walked back down the hill toward Chestnut, motioning for the others to follow.

  “What about them?” Shack shouted, pointing to the strangers. “We can’t just leave them here!”

  “Better than getting ourselves killed,” Mona replied.

  The adults of Chestnut stood at the border, a rare moment when every major house was gathered in unity. The mayor had been the first to arrive, along with Carol—Mona’s mother—who had been the first adult the children informed. The Beastly family stood beside them: the youngest son Shack, the eldest, Jordan, and the head of the household, Guranvallur. Also present were the Hammer and Atlatl families, the head of each standing next to the mayor. Behind them stood every active hunter in town, including Quinlou with his signature twin blades.

  “How nice to have an audience of such standing,” the strangers’ leader said, still keeping his theatrical tone. “Perhaps you folks will be more hospitable.”

  “State your name, outsider!” the mayor bellowed.

  “I am a messenger,” the man replied.

  “Not good enough!” Guranvallur Beastly snapped.

  “You cannot ask for our kindness only to refuse such a simple request,” said the mayor. “State your name!”

  Mona had often heard her father speak in that tone, but it had never made her feel as protected as it did now. It was rare to see all the important figures of Chestnut gathered together. What on earth could stand against them? Yet… this stranger and his men seemed confident.

  “Daven,” the stranger replied. “That is my name.”

  Lies, Mona thought.

  The mayor growled. He probably had the same thought.

  “And what are you doing here? Are you not aware of the laws of this town?”

  “I’ve heard the stories. You seem to live up to the reputation of—”

  “Quiet,” Guranvallur snapped. “If you know the laws, then you know you’ve broken them. No outsider steps into Chestnut. There are no exceptions.”

  Not entirely true, Mona thought. But bringing up specifics would only hurt their argument.

  Daven sighed. “Perhaps if you calmed down a little, we could sort this out in a more civilised manner.”

  Guranvallur stepped forward to shout again, but the mayor raised a hand, gesturing for him to stand back.

  “Fine,” the mayor said. “Let’s be civil. What is it you want?”

  Daven smiled, that sadistic nature still flickering beneath his gentle facade.

  “Your neighboring towns and villages are now under our control. Yours, like the rest, will soon follow. But understand, we are a kind people—we do not seek violence. So tomorrow, we will return and accept your offering of five hundred silver pieces. If it’s not ready, we will take it.”

  Mona clenched her fists. Bandits. Of course. Why hadn’t she realized it sooner? These men had come to rob them.

  The mayor chuckled. “You assume your men are capable of such a feat?”

  “Yes. I know it’s possible. Ask Cherrystone or Almond Town. Within days, you will submit. The choice of violence will be yours.”

  Daven gestured to his men, and just like that, they turned and walked away.

  “Why not fight us now, cowards?!” Guranvallur shouted.

  The mayor pulled him back by the shoulder. “That’s enough, Beastly! Let them go!”

  Daven turned back with a smug smile.

  “I suggest you keep that dog on a leash. It’s a shame when belligerent animals have to be put down.”

  Then the strangers disappeared over the hills from which they’d come.